


The Idiots' Guide to Not Despising Your Cousin

by lloydskywalkers



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Morro's alive that's all, but only slightly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:13:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lloydskywalkers/pseuds/lloydskywalkers
Summary: Determined to make the best out of the worst hand, Lloyd drags his newly-living pseudo-cousin on the road trip from hell in a desperate attempt to bond. Or get rid of each other for good, they’re not sure yet.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 92





	The Idiots' Guide to Not Despising Your Cousin

**Author's Note:**

> One of these years I will remember I have an AO3 account and I will remember to actually update it! One of these years.
> 
> This particular fics requires…a tiny bit of background, part one being that a while back I received a request for "more lloyd and sharks". Except I misread it as "morro lloyd and sharks" which was I thought was like, slightly odd, but I went with it and somehow ended up with 12K words of…this fic, that's definitely 90% crack. Which brings me to part two, which is that this takes place in an entirely hypothetical au where Morro made it through the rift in dotd, or somehow he's alive the details aren't important shh

In his defense, Morro never would have been caught dead in this situation if he hadn’t traumatized his sort-of-cousin by possessing him two years earlier.

…alright, that’s not really a _defense_ , but it’s the only explanation he has. 

“I’m just saying,” Lloyd is…saying, as he jabs his pointer finger at him. “I could’ve been a whole foot taller if you hadn’t starved me. You stunted my growth, listening to me for five minutes is the least you can do.”

“I did not stunt your growth, you were already going to be a shrimp anyways,” Morro counters, rubbing his right eye as he tries to focus on his book instead. 

Lloyd’s eyes narrow. “A whole week. And all you let me eat was half a slice of bread and _vodka shots._ ”

“Would you — _shh_ , it was not vodka!” Morro hisses, his eyes darting wildly around for Wu. His shoulders slump in relief as he confirms that he and Lloyd are still the only ones in the room, and he turns back, glaring at Lloyd. “I told you, it was juice.”

Lloyd glares right back. “I could still taste, you know. I’m not _that_ naïve.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Morro quips. 

Lloyd’s green eyes flash a little too much on the neon side, and Morro backs down. “Alright, alright!” He shakes his head. “I’ll listen to whatever kiddie drama you want.”

“It’s not drama,” Lloyd huffs, flopping down on the couch across from him. “It’s a proposal.”

Morro sneers. “Oh, a _fancy_ word.”

Again, Lloyd sneers right back. “Yeah, do you need a _dictionary_ for it?"

In retrospect, it’s probably a good thing Morro possessed Lloyd at that particular point in his life. If he’d had to deal with this Lloyd, and all his newly-found confidence and sass, he’d have dropped him off a cliff much sooner. 

“Listen here, you little punk—”

“Oh, now you want _me_ to listen to _you_ ,” Lloyd interrupts. “Spoken like a true raging hypocrite.”

“FSM, what do you _want?_ ” Morro finally cracks, tossing his book on the couch beside him. It’s clear he’s not going to be getting anymore reading done until Lloyd leaves. 

Lloyd beams, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. “Again, I have a proposal,” he says. “For you.”

Morro already hates this. “No.”

Lloyd continues as if Morro hadn’t spoken. “You should go with me to the coast this weekend.”

“No.”

“The southern coast, so the one like eight hours away.”

“ _No_ , what the—” Morro stares at him incredulously. “Why in the world would I _ever_ want to do that?”

Lloyd simply shrugs, as if he hasn’t just suggested the idea from hell. “Because.”

Morro’s going to kill him, tentatively-redeemed status be damned. 

“Why, _Lloyd_.”

Lloyd gets a _look_ in his eyes, the kind that makes Morro shift. “Consider,” he says. “A tornado.”

Morro, unfortunately, does consider that. “There is...merit, to the idea,” he admits, even if doing so pains him.

“Okay, okay,” Lloyd continues, like an enthusiastic salesman with a quota to meet. “Now, consider this: sharks. In the tornado.”

Morro loses any and all faith he’s ever had in Lloyd, which is impressive considering there was nothing there to begin with. “What.”

“Sharks, in the tornado. Like a sharknado.”

Something flickers in the back of Morro’s brain, snatches of a conversation he’d heard from the living room one evening, along with a lot of screeching laughter and pained groans. 

“Are you trying to reenact an entirely fictional and entirely garbage movie,” Morro says flatly, mentally crediting Cole for that particular phrasing. 

Lloyd’s lip juts out. “No.”

“That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it,” Morro rolls his eyes. “No. Find someone else to be stupid with you. Kai should be down, he always is.”

Lloyd narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t take the bait. “Will you just — at least hear my final point,” he pleads.

Morro stares into the vast abyss of the ceiling panels, and already regrets answering. “ _What_.”

“The look on the others’ faces.”

Morro pauses again, desperately trying to stop himself — but it’s too late. The looks have been imagined. 

Lloyd grins, sharp teeth poking out at the edge of his lip. “Now — the look on Uncle Wu’a face.”

Oh, curse everything. Morro’s coming dangerously close to being made a fool by an idiot shrimp who calls himself his cousin. He quickly backtracks. 

“Noted, but that doesn’t explain why you’re asking _me_.”

“Because you’ve got the wind power for the tornado, duh.” Lloyd makes a face. “Also because the others will probably say something like it’s too dangerous, or a high risk, or some other nonsense like that.”

Morro highly doubts that Jay, or even Kai, of all people, would turn down the opportunity for such potent idiocy, but he does believe they’d tie Lloyd to a pole to keep him from rushing a shark. 

“So you’re asking me, out of everyone else in this realm, to drive eight hours — _eight_ — with you to some coast in the middle of nowhere — which includes water, by the way, so that’s already a strike — just so you can recreate some awful B-movie scene?”

“Yup,” Lloyd says. “And maybe drop the whole thing on my dad’s head, if we can find him.”

“Right,” Morro sighs. “Just being clear.”

He drops his head back, staring at the ceiling again. It’s the idea from hell, for certain. Morro would hate himself every minute of it, if he were to agree. 

But the idea of hitting the road — of escaping the monastery — _does_ sound tempting. 

It has, admittedly, been rather boring at the monastery. Morro’s interactions with the ninja, while not as aggressive as they’d been originally, tend to be strained at best. On the better days, Morro finds the most entertainment in listening to the increasingly creative ways Kai threatens to end his existence with, should he either step out of line, or within a set boundary around Lloyd. Both of which Morro threatens to break by going along with Lloyd’s plan. 

Actually, Morro muses, that’s more of a reason to go than to not. Kai’s head might potentially explode if he were to wake up and discover Morro had taken off across country with Lloyd, and Morro would get the added bonus of seeing him chew Lloyd out for being the one to suggest it. So there are definitely pros. 

None of them, of course, override the fact that he’d be spending eight hours, in a car, with Lloyd and Lloyd alone. Both ways. 

“Eight hours is a long time,” Morro finally says.

Lloyd’s expression drops, before his eyebrows crease stubbornly. “It’s eight hours you wouldn’t spend being hounded by Uncle Wu to train with us.”

Morro cringes. Lloyd has clearly prepared his arguments for this one with devastating accuracy. But still, _eight hours_. With _Lloyd_ —

“If you do this, I’ll stop tying all your shirtsleeves together when they’re in the laundry,” Lloyd adds. 

“That was you?!” Morro exclaims, indignantly. “Nya told me the dryer did that on its own!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Lloyd shrugs. “You probably…shouldn’t take Nya’s word on a whole lot of stuff any time soon.”

“Now you tell me,” Morro mutters, sinking further into the couch and bemoaning the universe on the whole.

Lloyd scoots forward on his own couch, his eyes wide and pleading. “Please?” he says. “It’s just this once. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

Morro meets his eyes shrewdly, chewing on his cheek. He’ll regret it, for certain. Probably hate himself and the universe on the whole the entire weekend. But…he does, rather drastically, owe Lloyd. And he is trying to — _ugh_ — make things right with him. 

(As if that’s something that can be _done_.)

And at least there’s the promise of Lloyd leaving him alone.

Morro lets out a long, weary groan, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “ _Fine_ ,” he grumbles. “But you’re paying for gas.”

Lloyd gives a whoop of victory, before desperately trying to stifle his excitement. “You pay for stuff?” he cackles instead. “Lamest villain ever.”

“Get out,” Morro snarls, hurling his book at him. Lloyd dodges with ease. “Before I change my mind and murder you.” 

* * *

Lloyd secures a vehicle with a speed and easiness that almost makes Morro doubt which one of them is the reformed criminal. Then he remembers that, technically, they’re both reformed criminals, even if Morro’s ‘reformed’ status is still under hot debate (by himself included).

As it also turns out, Lloyd happens to have a not-so-reformed criminal friend as well, who Morro unfortunately recognizes when he hands the keys over to them. 

Ronin abruptly cuts off in his lecture to Lloyd about engine safety as he spots him, his face paling. Morro pauses mid-step, mentally wishing he’d just made Lloyd carry the six packages of Oreos out to the car himself. Lloyd simply smiles, like the oblivious airhead Morro wishes he truly was. 

He’s not, though, because the look in his eyes says he’s having the time of his life with this. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention,” Lloyd tells Ronin easily. “Morro’s the other person I was talking about.”

Ronin stares between the two of them, and looks as if he’s lost about five years of his life. “How hard do they hit your head in practice, kid.”

“Not hard enough, apparently,” Morro mutters. Ronin pins him with a glare, and despite his better judgement, Morro shuts up. 

“It’s all good,” Lloyd assures him. “I know what I’m doing.”

“For some reason, I got trouble believin’ you, kid.”

“Well, you shouldn’t,” Lloyd huffs, snatching the keys from him. “I’m the Green Ninja. Also, if you tell the others about this I’ll start busting your Thursday night runs.”

Ronin’s expression sours. “Alright, alright, if you wanna go on a suicide road trip, go on a suicide road trip. Just keep me outta it.”

“Gladly,” Morro grouses, shouldering his way between them so he can dump the cursed cookies in the van already. 

Ronin watches him through narrowed eyes, and makes a threatening gesture. “If you even try and come back alone…”

“He won’t,” Lloyd says, before Morro can reply. “Promise. I have it all under control.”

“That’s what you all say every time,” Ronin grumbles.

Ronin finally leaves them in peace, muttering something about ‘ _leaving his Thursday nights alone'_ before taking off. This leaves Lloyd and Morro and the incredibly hideous minivan, alone. They look at each other. There’s a moment of silence, before they both scramble wildly for the driver’s seat. Morro beats Lloyd out by a half-second, grabbing the steering wheel and shoving him back with a smug smirk. Lloyd glares at him. 

“I’m driving,” he demands. 

“As if you’re old enough to have your license,” Morro scoffs.

Lloyd narrows his eyes into slits. “At least I was born when cars actually existed.”

“Ooh, I’m _old_ , how will I ever recover,” Morro mocks. “I got here first, I’m driving. Suck it up.”

Lloyd’s face screws up, and for a half-second Morro gleefully thinks he’s about to pout like a child.

To his disappointment, Lloyd blows his breath out, stands up straighter, and plays _dirty_. 

“You take control of the car, you take control of my body, ” he shakes his head, crossing his arms. “I guess that’s just how it is with you, huh."

Morro’s hands grind where he clutches the steering wheel, and he resists the urge to smash his head against it. “Have you ever heard of abusing your power.”

“Have you ever heard of abusing _me_.”

“Oh for _FSM’s_ — you can drive, fine!”

* * *

They’re roughly an hour out from the monastery, when something strikes Morro as odd. 

“By the way,” he says. “How did you convince the idiot quartet to let you go?”

“Don’t call them that,” Lloyd says sternly, glaring at him. “And, uh, I didn’t.”

Morro blinks. Then Lloyd’s meaning sinks in, and he lets out a long, pained exhale. “You do realize,” he says. “That they’re going to have multiple heart attacks, then hunt me down and murder me as prime suspect, right.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Lloyd assures him, cheerfully. “I left them a note.”

* * *

Kai stares at the slightly-crumpled scrap of paper in his hands and wishes, not for the first time, that Garmadon or Wu or Misako had put in just a little more time in raising Lloyd, so he could blame them for this and not his own example. 

Alas, Kai is only able to bury himself in so much denial.

“What’s that?” Cole asks, striding into the kitchen behind him. Kai hands him the note, wordlessly. Cole frowns as he takes it, trying in vain to flatten the edges.

“ _‘Hey guys, heading out with Morro for a couple days, going to’_ — something something…sharks?” Cole blinks at the note. “Geez, might need to look into Lloyd’s writing education agai— wait, he’s heading out with _who_ for a couple _what_.”

“Read the rest,” Kai says, his eyes glazing over as he stares across the kitchen. 

“Okay, uh… _‘—taking the van’_ — we have a van? — _‘shouldn’t go too far, don’t worry.’_ ” Cole’s eyebrows shoot up as he reads on. “‘ _Also my phone’s dead and I forgot the charger. Sorry.’_ He wrote this while he was _still here_ , he could’ve grabbed it!” he exclaims. 

“I’m going to slaughter him,” Kai states.

“Uh…which one?”

“Whichever one doesn’t run fast enough.”

* * *

As it turns out, Lloyd’s plan consists of a little more than just driving six hours to some random beach in the middle of nowhere. This is unsurprising, as Morro’s been expecting Lloyd to spring nonsense on him at any given moment. 

Having lived in his head for a brief stint, Morro also finds it unsurprising that Lloyd’s plan isn’t actually a plan. 

“So the tornado thing is easy, obviously, unless your powers suck,” he’s saying. Morro shoots him a look he hopes conveys the depths of his annoyance from where he’s at the wheel. Lloyd switched with him back at the last gas station, having grown fed up with Morro’s lack of skill in reading maps.

It’s not Morro’s fault his reading comprehension rests around that of a nine year-old’s. Like _Lloyd’s_ any better. 

“Gonna take that as a ‘maybe’,” Lloyd mutters to himself, squinting back at the map under the above-head car light. “It’s the shark part that’s going to be a little more tricky.”

“I hear they like blood,” Morro says. “I can always skewer you a little, then toss you in. That should do it.”

“Har har,” Lloyd replies, drenched in sarcasm. “That’s obviously not the route we’re taking. Besides, it’d be mean to lure the sharks out and not actually have anything they can eat. I’d probably end up poisoning them or something, with my mutant Oni blood.”

Morro stares at him long enough to nearly run them off the road. He jerks the car back on track just in time, shaking his head and despairing. 

“I was thinking, since there’s already an elemental master of nature, maybe there’s like, an elemental master of animals?” Lloyd continues. “Then we could ask them to help us out.”

“Oh, I’m sure some random master would love to help _us_ out,” Morro drawls. “An undead criminal who tried to unleash hell on the country and the son of Lord Garmadon.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lloyd huffs. “People actually like me.”

“Shocker.”

Lloyd ignores him. “Plus, you’re not even undead anymore,” he mutters under his breath. “You’re just regular boring alive, now.”

Morro opens his mouth, because he’s got a lot to say about _that_ , then realizes he doesn’t quite have the _words_ for it, aside from hanging his mouth open like an indignant fish. He shuts it, and Lloyd plows on. 

“Do you think we should look for the master of like, fish or something, instead?” he questions, frowning. “I mean, I don’t even know if there is a master of animals, but if there _is_ , sharks are technically fish, and fish are…well, I guess they’re animals too, but what if there’s like, a distinction, and all the hypothetical master of animals can summon are _mammals_ , and we drive out of the way for nothing?”

“I will pay you,” Morro says, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. “I will pay you so much to shut up.”

“It’s too much of a risk,” Lloyd decides, ignoring him. “Plan B it is, then.”

Morro doesn’t want to ask. That would be inviting Lloyd to run his mouth again, and Morro doesn’t hate himself that much.

But he does, regretfully, want to know how he’ll be meeting his fate.

“What’s plan B?”

“So there’s this park,” Lloyd says. “For performing animals.”

* * *

Morro and Lloyd are still arguing by the time they pull into the motel parking lot for the night. _That_ had been a different argument altogether, but as they’d had to sneak out around midnight to get on the road successfully, neither had really wanted to keep driving through the early morning hours. 

“—no, no, I cannot make this clearer, no,” Morro growls. “I am not breaking into some — some stupid amusement park, just to steal their dancing sharks or whatever.”

“Oh come on, it’s stealing! That’s like, your favorite pastime,” Lloyd shoots back. “A shark is nothing compared to body-snatching.”

“That’s _not_ going to work on me again,” Morro seethes.

“Oh yeah?” Lloyd taunts. “Why not? Did your morality meter run out?”

“My _what_ —”

“I can never dye my hair black because of you,” Lloyd continues, eyes narrowed. “I will never know the teenage joys of horrifying your family by dyeing your entire head jet black, because of _you_.”

“It didn’t look that bad,” Morro defends.

“I’m talking about the _trauma!_ ” Lloyd snaps.

Morro pauses. “Your trauma, or theirs?”

Lloyd opens his mouth, then frowns. “Min—their— both, both traumas!”

While Morro wants to scoff back that having to endure the sight of Kai’s hair is equally traumatic for him, he also recognizes that Lloyd has a point. Which is inconvenient, because Lloyd’s beginning to use that point against him a little too well lately, but considering Lloyd also still wakes up screaming in the night because Morro’s given him chronic nightmares, he decides not to push back against that point. 

Because he’s a nice person, like that.

He does, however, attempt to push for _sense_. 

“Stealing a shark from a theme park is still theft,” he argues under his breath, as they make their way toward the motel check-in. “Isn’t that something you’re against?”

“Theft, yes,” Lloyd replies. “Freeing wrongfully imprisoned sharks from slavery, less so.”

“Oh, so stealing is an act of _philanthropy_ when it’s you.”

“Wow, look at you, breaking out the big words.” Lloyd’s teeth grind together.

“Yeah, you need a _dictionary?_ ” Morro sneers back his words from earlier. 

Lloyd looks as if he’d like to throttle him, but fortunately for Morro — or unfortunately, as he’d like to see him _try_ — the receptionist at the check-in desk is staring at them with wide eyes now. 

To be fair, Morro imagines they make quite a contrasting pair: Lloyd with his light hair in his green hoodie and green high top sneakers, and Morro with his black hair in his black shirt and black jacket and black jeans and black high top sneakers.

At least Lloyd’s basketball shorts are like, a grey color. For contrast, not that Morro cares.

He does care that they’re both wearing high top sneakers, but that’s only because it’s annoying. 

Lloyd finally straightens, transforming instantaneously into a bright, innocent-eyed ray of infuriating sunshine. “Hi!” he greets. “Can we get a room for two, please?”

“Oh,” the lady blinks, clearly blinded by the intensity of Lloyd’s beaming smile. “Of course, sweetheart, one moment.”

Morro fights back the urge to inform the receptionist that Lloyd is actually a half-demon monster who could and would drag her on an eight-hour road trip from hell, with the sole purpose of stealing sharks.

He resists, though. Since he’s a nice person, like that. 

The receptionist hands them the keys with ease, but it’s only as Lloyd struggles to get the room door open that the reality of their situation hits Morro.

Lloyd finally swings the door open, and Morro stares in horror at the small room. “Wait, we’re sharing a room?” 

“Uh, yeah?” Lloyd shrugs. “Unless you’ve got the money for two, ‘cause I definitely don’t.”

Morro’s jaw creaks. Lloyd knows full well he has about three cents to his name. “Tell me there’s two beds.”

Lloyd scoffs loudly. “Please. I’m not completely insane.”

Morro would beg to differ, because he’s got them _sharing a room_ , but he’s true to his word, at least. While the room is about the size of a glorified closet, there are two single beds, neatly arranged side by side. In silent agreement, the first thing Lloyd and Morro do, after tossing their bags down, is shove the beds as far as they can from each other against the opposite wall. The bedside table relocates nicely as a barrier in the no-man’s zone between the two. Morro would prefer, say, a five-feet thick vengestone wall between the two of them, but sure, the bedside table thing works. 

They make camp on their respective beds after that, Morro skimming idly through his book while Lloyd flips through the little leaflet on the bedside table. He frowns, swinging his legs at the edge of his bed. 

“D’you think we should just order dinner in?” he says. 

Morro ignores him, continuing to thumb through his book. He hasn’t been particularly hungry since they finished an entire package of Oreos somewhere around the second hour in. 

Not one to be discouraged, Lloyd continues anyways, mumbling to himself. “It’s a little late, but it looks like there are some pizza places that’ll deliver here…”

Morro frowns. “Pizza’s that cheese bread stuff, right?”

Lloyd goes silent. He stares at Morro, his expression frozen. “What.”

Morro shifts, uncomfortable at the stare Lloyd has on him. “What?”

“You’ve…never had _pizza?_ ” Lloyd finally gets out, as if the very idea is horrifying.

“No?” Morro offers. “You know I don’t eat dinner with you all. I certainly don’t eat your disgusting greasy junk food, either.”

“ _Disgusting_ — you’ve _never had_ pizza,” Lloyd repeats, scandalized. “That’s what’s disgusting here. We’ve gotta fix this. Not even you deserve to go your life without pizza.”

“I’m touched,” Morro drones. 

“Shut up, and pick out a topping.” Morro yelps as Lloyd suddenly materializes on the bed next to him, shoving the leaflet in his face. “So the standard go-to is cheese, ‘cause you can’t go wrong with that, but pepperoni’s pretty across the board, too. Kai and Nya like little peppers on theirs, so if you like spicy stuff that’s the way to go, but Cole swears by bacon bits, and Jay likes both. Zane likes the vegetable kind, but that’s just ‘cause he’s weird, so there’s that and pineapple, if you’re a mutant—”

“I’ll take the pineapple,” Morro blurts, in a desperate attempt to cut Lloyd’s babbling off. 

Lloyd wrinkles his nose. “You’re not gonna like it,” he threatens. “But I’ll get us one of those split pizzas, so we can do like, two slices of pineapple, then the rest can be cheese and pepperoni, I guess, if that sounds good?”

“I literally could not care less.”

“Taking that as a yes!” Lloyd says, cheerfully. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Wonderful,” Morro grimaces. “Now get—” he shoves Lloyd, sending him sprawling to the floor with a yelp. “Back over on your side.”

It takes an unfortunately quick time for the pizza to be delivered, so Morro doesn’t have the chance to pretend he’s fallen asleep before Lloyd’s invading his space again, shoving the pizza in his face. 

“Try it,” he demands. “One piece, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“That better be a promise,” Morro grouses, but he takes the slice he’s being offered, holding it gingerly between two fingers. He makes a face. “This is what you’ve been going on about? I can _see_ the grease dripping off it.”

Lloyd rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Just try it, geez. What are you, chicken?”

“What are you, five?” Morro retorts. He relents though, ever-so-carefully taking the tiniest of bites.

He pauses. Lloyd watches him expectantly. “And?”

Morro knows exactly what Lloyd wants to hear, and he’d eat rocks before he’d let him have it. Unfortunately, his tastebuds are arguing a different case.

Morro doesn’t reply, but he takes another bite, this one considerably larger. FSM be cursed, it’s good.

“Haha!” Lloyd crows, rocking back where he sits cross-legged on the floor. “You love it! I knew it.”

“I do not,” Morro argues. The mouthful of pizza he has doesn’t exactly sell his point. 

“Do too,” Lloyd grins, taking his own slice. 

Morro hesitates, then goes for another slice, giving in. “The pineapple stuff is pretty good,” he admits, reaching for the fruit-laden pizza. Lloyd chokes, his triumphant smile evaporating as his eyes go wide in horror.

“No. No, you can’t. I know you’re deranged, but you can’t be that far gone—”

“It’s good,” Morro shrugs, taking another bite. 

Lloyd gags, looking as if he’d like to cry. He settles for a sigh of despair instead, reaching for one of the slices of cheese. The edges of the crust are a bit blackened, but Lloyd doesn’t seem to mind.

“When I was a kid,” he says, as he catches a trailing string of cheese with his fingers. “Burnt pizza was my favorite thing ever. It was super easy to get, if you hung out behind the restaurants. They’d always throw them out in boxes and stuff, so it wasn’t as gross to swipe outta the trash.”

Lloyd’s eyebrows furrow, and his expression drops. “Uh, I mean, sorry. The guys get weird when I talk about that stuff, ‘cause it’s…weird, I guess.”

Morro eyes him. Far be it from him to reassure Lloyd, but — “I don’t think it’s that weird,” he says. “I’d snag stuff from the trash all the time when I was on the streets.”

“Really?” Lloyd’s expression brightens. “That was how I always ate when I was hanging in cities! Smaller towns not so much, since you could swipe stuff from food stands easier there.”

Morro nods in agreement. “The bigger cities are a lot better for scavenging, but smaller villages are where it’s at for stealing. People let you get away easier there.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Lloyd exclaims. He shakes his head, muttering to himself. “I knew it wasn’t that weird. The guys just like to overreact all the time.”

“Tell me about it,” Morro snorts. “Wu’d always act like I’d kicked him in the shins when I brought that sort of stuff up.”

“Sounds like him,” Lloyd giggles, before lapsing back into silence as they both finish the pizza. 

If Morro didn’t know any better, he’d call it comfortable. 

* * *

Sleeping, however, is _not_ comfortable. 

Morro stares up at the ceiling, his eyes wide open. Across the room, Lloyd does the same from his own bed. 

“Go to sleep,” Morro finally says. “You’re creeping me out.”

“You go to sleep first,” Lloyd responds, after a minute.

Morro grits his teeth. “No, you.”

“What, so you can murder me?” Lloyd hisses.

“I’m more worried about you murdering me!” Morro hisses back.

“ _You’re_ the ex-criminal. Maybe I don’t wanna wake up to the Preeminent at my throat.” 

“Well maybe _I_ don’t want to wake up with the Serpentine at my neck.”

“Oh, shut up, you hypocritical jerk—”

“You’re the one with a blabber mouth, you stuck-up wannabe-martyr—”

* * *

In the end, neither of them wake up with slit throats. Neither of them wake up with marker all over their face, or tied up in their own sheets, or halfway out the window, either. It is, quite possibly, a miracle. 

* * *

“Well, Lloyd charged a pizza to my credit card, so we know they’re alive, at least,” Cole sighs.

“He took your credit card?” Nya frowns. “I thought Morro was the one who— you know what, never mind, Lloyd makes perfect sense.”

“He redacted the location, too,” Cole taps wearily at his phone. “Wow, we really did raise a child criminal.”

Kai moans into his hands where he’s slumped over at the table, hunkering in the pits of anxiety-induced despair. 

“Y’know, it’s not too late to chase them down,” Jay remarks. “Could be fun, we could all join in on whatever awful road trip they’re having.”

“Sensei Wu said we need to let them go,” Cole mutters. “So they can ‘work things out’. That, or he wants to collect on their life insurance early.”

Jay makes a face. “And we’re listening to him…why?”

“Lloyd disabled location services on his phone,” Zane says, dully. “And since the van was procured from Ronin—”

“We have _no_ idea where they are,” Nya growls. “I’m going to _slaughter_ him.”

“Morro, Lloyd, or Ronin?” Jay asks. 

Nya exchanges looks with Kai. “Whichever one doesn’t hide well enough.”

* * *

“So if we’re looking at this logically, I think our best bet is to just sneak in the park as tourists, so we blend in with everyone. It’s a pretty busy time of the year, so we should go unnoticed—”

“Next exit.”

“—and then we’ll be able to — huh?”

“Next exit. On the left.”

“The left? I thought it was the right. Are you sure you aren’t reading the map upside down again?”

The vein near Morro’s forehead throbs. “I’m not, now get in the — get in the left lane, Lloyd, or we’ll miss it!”

“I swear, if you make me U-turn in the middle of the highway again…” Lloyd grits out, but he sends them careening across the freeway, darting into the left lane just in time to make their turn. Morro clutches the armrest with white knuckles, desperately trying not to cover his eyes with his hands like he has every other time Lloyd’s driven. 

“You drive like a maniac,” Morro finally gets out, as Lloyd pushes the car well over the local speed limit. “Whoever let you have a license should be jailed.”

“Wimp,” Lloyd mocks. “I don’t wanna hear it, with how you and your whack-job ghost pals would drive around.”

“That was different,” Morro grinds his teeth. “We had reliable vehicles and I was too dead to care. _This_ is a bucket of bolts, and I’m unfortunately alive enough to not want to die in a fiery inferno because you crashed us head-on into a semi truck.”

“Seriously?” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “You sound like Uncle Wu.”

Morro turns to stare at him so fast his neck practically cracks. He continues to stare at Lloyd, his mouth half-open, too viscerally horrified to form a response.

He finally manages a croaked, “Take that back.”

“Nope.” Lloyd is grinning.

“Take it back, I sound _nothing_ like him—”

Lloyd says nothing, still grinning. Dying in a fiery inferno is sounding better by the minute, if it means dragging Lloyd down with him. 

“So anyways, as I was saying,” Lloyd continues, as they pull into view of the park. “I think we should slip in the park dressed like tourists—”

“Mm-hm.”

“—with tickets that I can buy on Cole’s credit card—”

“Classy.”

“—which’ll give our location away, ‘cause there’s no hiding that, but we should be clear out of here by the time he checks anyways—”

“Nobody cares.”

“—alright, alright, so we’re in as tourists, then we just…grab a shark and, uh, borrow one of their big moving trucks, I guess.”

Morro stares at him. “Borrow. The park’s semi truck they use to move sharks.”

Lloyd winces. “Well, we can’t fit the shark in here.”

They both give the minivan a once-over, and cringe in unison.

“So let me get this straight,” Morro rubs his temple as Lloyd pulls them into the parking lot, pocketing their tickets with the slightest expression of guilt and a whispered ‘ _Forgive me Cole’._ “Your plan is to just…walk into the park, pretending we’re totally normal people, then somehow stuff a shark in a truck and — and what? Bust through the front gates?”

“I was more thinking we could swipe park uniforms while we’re in there, and sneak out like _Star Wars_ ,” Lloyd says, gesturing enthusiastically with his hands. 

Morro buries his face in his hands. “I despise everything you are.”

“It’s a solid plan!” Lloyd defends, kicking the car door open. “It’s better than anything you have.”

“Planning for something this stupid would burn my brain cells to a crisp,” Morro grumbles, sliding out of the van. He eyes the vehicle, something occurring to him. “By the way. If we’re busting out of here in a park truck, what does that mean for this thing?”

Lloyd pauses, as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Uh…” he sweats. “I’m, uh. I’m sure Ronin’s done something bad enough that he deserves us leaving it here.”

“We’re going to come out of this with so many people after our heads,” Morro exhales. 

* * *

Morro lets Lloyd snag them clothes from a nearby gift shop, which is probably the worst mistake he’s made in his life. Whether Lloyd is still aiming for a bit of revenge or his fashion sense really is just that appalling, the outfits he picks out for them almost succeed at burning Morro’s eyes out on the spot.

“What is this,” is all he manages to get out, staring blankly at the bright yellow, button-up shirt he’s holding in his hands. It wouldn’t be so bad, if it didn’t have ugly orange flowers and pineapples printed all over it as well. 

“It’s what you get for liking pineapple on your pizza,” Lloyd quips, as he pulls a garishly orange t-shirt over his head. His shirt has “ _I Went to Oceanworld and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt_ ” printed on it in bright pink script, which is at least better than the ugly flowers Morro gets. On the other hand, Lloyd’s stuck with a pair of truly hideous, neon blue running shorts, while Morro at least gets navy cargo ones, so there’s that tiny victory. 

“Also, these were the best options they had,” Lloyd winces, having caught a glimpse of himself in a shop window as they head toward the park entrance, a crowd of people already starting to form around them. “Here, put these on.”

Morro stares at the purple sunglasses Lloyd’s handed him. “Absolutely not.”

“This too,” Lloyd ignores him, shoving a neon green baseball cap on him. “See, I’m letting you have the green one, ‘cause—”

“If you even finish that sentence, I’ll drown you in the first fish tank we see,” Morro grits out, shoving the sunglasses on. Lloyd just gives him a sunny smile, tugging a vivid pink baseball cap over his hair. _He_ , at least, looks like he fits in here, with his idiot smile and the way he almost starts bouncing as they mingle in the crowds. Morro, on the other hand, feels much as if he sticks out like a sore, sweaty thumb. 

“You know, I might actually take you up on that drowning thing,” Lloyd mutters as they drift further into the park, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt. “If only so I end up in the water. It’s so _hot_.”

“Makes me miss your grandfather’s tomb,” Morro mutters beneath his breath. Lloyd spears him with a glare out of the corners of his eyes. “What?” Morro defends. “It was at least cold there.”

“I _remember_. I almost died ‘cause of it,” Lloyd growls, his eyes flashing in warning.

“Pretty sure you were more likely to die of starvation by that point,” Morro remarks easily. “But you were already a twig to begin with, so—”

He cuts off with a strangled shout of pain as Lloyd shoves him face-first into a sign, his nose crunching against the metal. Morro pulls away angrily, only to come face to face with a truly hellish, grinning shark on the sign, pointing its deformed fin to the right. Just below the awful shark is a small, printed square that points ahead, reading _Park Maintenance: Transportation_.

“Just so you know, I’m going to roundhouse-kick your teeth out for that later,” Morro tells Lloyd calmly. “But I think I’ve found our stop.”

Lloyd’s expression switches from Oni hell spawn of doom to enthusiastic devil child in a heartbeat. “Oh, seriously? That was fast.”

“Aw,” Morro sneers. “Did you want to stop by the kiddie park before we left?”

Lloyd’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t spare Morro a second glance. “Nah, but I wanted a picture of you in that shirt to immortalize. Kai’ll get a kick out of it.”

Morro pales rapidly. “No. No, Kai does not hear a word of this. This stays between you and me forever and then we die. Kai. Never. Knows.”

“I’ll keep it quiet if you give me your credit card.”

“Ha! You know this entire family’s broke.”

Breaking into park maintenance is laughably easy — or it would have been, if they weren’t dressed in the ugliest, most obvious colors possible. They make it through three different doors on the excuse that they’re “poor, lost cousins whose uncle left them to die”, but after that they have to start knocking people out. Morro debates arguing for murder, because witnesses and all, but covering their stolen uniforms in blood before they even have the chance to wear them is probably a bad move. 

At least the uniforms are a decent combo of white and sky blue, instead of a criminal offense on the eyes. 

“Just like _Star Wars!_ ” Lloyd exclaims happily, as they sprint for the truck. 

It takes every bit of Morro’s willpower not to lock him in the nearby fish tank. He doesn’t, though, because Lloyd somehow manages to locate the one shark actually scheduled for transport, which means all they have to do is subtly distract a few more employees and steal the truck before the furious horde of security guards on their tail catch up and send them both to the Departed Realm in style. 

“I said subtly distract them!” Lloyd cries, as Morro neatly finishes chopping his hand into the last employee’s neck, sending him into blissful unconsciousness. “Not that!”

“Do _not_ take the moral high ground with me now,” Morro snaps at him. “I saw what you did to the other security guard, you absolute menace.”

“That was different, can we just— oh, good, the shark’s in the tank and everything,” Lloyd pants, flicking through the little camera view screen on the truck dashboard. “And there’s the exit gate, and there’s — oh, there’s security coming to kill us.”

“What?” Morro yelps, craning his head over. “They shouldn’t have gotten through the door that soon, we haven’t even found the keys yet!”

“Don’t need keys.” Lloyd slides down, prying the compartment beneath the steering wheel open, exposing a mass of complicated wires. “Strap the shark in and lock the back doors,” he orders, as he starts pulling at them. “I’m gonna hot wire it.”

Morro has about a thousand and two questions for why, exactly, Lloyd knows how to _hot wire_ a car, but he immediately decides he doesn’t want to know. Well, he kind of does, because it’s possibly the only cool thing Lloyd has revealed about himself, but running for their lives from angry, underpaid park employees doesn’t seem to be the best of times. 

Morro sprints around the truck, yanking the doors open fully and hoisting himself into the trailer. The shark appears to be whacked out of its mind on what Morro’s guessing is a tranquilizer, floating happily in its little tank, and Morro desperately hopes that’s not about to change with the chaotic horror that is Lloyd’s driving.

“Hang tight, fish,” Morro mutters, as he tightens the box straps. Satisfied it won’t come loose, he stumbles out of the trailer, his hands shaking with adrenaline as he slams the truck doors closed, before skidding around the asphalt for the passenger seat. 

“Any day now, Lloyd,” he urges, watching the first of the guards come into view in the car mirror.

“Almost got it,” Lloyd hisses, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth as he yanks at the wires beneath the steering wheel. “Drat, these things are so much more complicated than smaller cars—”

“Lloyd, believe it or not, I really _don’t_ want to kill anyone today.”

“Got it!” Lloyd exclaims triumphantly, slamming the panel closed as the car hums to life. He slides back up into the driver’s seat, throwing the gearshift forward. “Buckle up, this is gonna be fun!”

“You and I have—” Morro swallows a shriek as Lloyd guns the truck forward, his head smacking back against the passenger seat. “ _Entirely_ different definitions of fun.”

“You just don’t know what fun is,” Lloyd accuses as he presses harder on the gas, angered shouts from the security guards echoing behind them. 

“I know it’s not what you’re doing,” Morro shoots back, as Lloyd smashes them through several plastic barriers. 

“What? How is this not fun?” Lloyd gestures with one hand, the other veering the steering wheel to the right and sending the truck careening through the park exit, narrowly missing the transport shuttle. 

“Fun is me having control of this thing,” Morro grits out. “Or having control in general. You know, like how I controlled you.”

Lloyd’s head turns to him, his eyes narrowing. “You are _not_ bringing this back up now.”

“What, it’s _fun_ — eyes on the road, eyes on the road!”

* * *

By the time they make it on the interstate, well out of the city traffic, Morro’s lost any doubts he’s ever had that Lloyd is the actual blood descendant of the First Spinjitzu Master. There’s just no other way to explain how they manage to evade the entire park’s security staff as well as the local police without trouble, other than divine intervention. 

As all things do, though, even divine intervention runs out. Unfortunately, it’s at the same time that Lloyd and Morro’s adrenaline high runs out as well, leaving them both exhausted and heavy-eyed. And also considerably short-tempered, so when Lloyd fails to spot the pothole in the dark and punctures their front tire, Morro’s already dangerously close to his breaking point. 

It’s never a good place to be, when he’s around Lloyd. 

“I swear, it’s in here somewhere,” Lloyd says, his eyebrows furrowing as he roots through the glove compartment again. “This is an official park vehicle, they can’t _not_ have a manual.”

Morro doesn’t comment, too busy trying to slide the tire jack in place. It’s his fifth attempt so far, and the failures aren’t exactly helping his rising temper. It wouldn’t be quite as difficult if the road they were on wasn’t in the middle of nowhere, perched at the edge of a steep ravine. But it is, and the tire jack clanks out of place as Morro misses yet again. 

“Aha! Got it. It doesn’t look too difficult, actually.”

Morro grits his teeth. How no one has murdered Lloyd for his unfailing optimism yet is beyond him. Utterly beyond him. Especially when it’s _his_ fault in the first place.

“All we really need is to get the spare out from underneath,” Lloyd muses, skimming through the manual. “Then we should be good.”

“Stop saying _we_ ,” Morro finally snaps. “ _We_ did not destroy the tire. _You_ did.”

Lloyd blinks, then frowns. “You didn’t exactly _help_ ,” he murmurs beneath his breath, bending down near the flat tire. 

Morro’s fingers clench around the tire jack, his knuckles white. He is not going to lose his temper. He’s not. He is stuck in the middle of nowhere, with a stolen truck and a flat tire, with no help in sight, with _Lloyd Garmadon_ of all people, but he is not going to lose his temper. It’s a waste of energy. 

“Look, just — no, you’re doing it wrong,” Lloyd sighs. 

Never mind. Morro’s got energy to spare.

“Would it _kill_ you to shut up? For five seconds?” he snaps, whirling on Lloyd. Lloyd flinches back in alarm, and Morro snarls. “This is your fault, would it kill you to stop making things _worse_ for once?”

Lloyd’s face pales. “I just—”

“We wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you,” Morro steamrolls over him, not even giving him the _chance_ to speak. He’s done, he’s so done with this. He’s held it together pretty well this whole time, gone along with Lloyd’s stupid trip for a reason he doesn’t even know, but this is it. Being alive is not worth the effort, at all. 

“You dragged me on this, you and your stupid, selfish obsession with pretending everything’ll work out fine, like you’re some little _kid,”_ Morro stabs his finger viciously at Lloyd. “Well guess what? Nothing is fine, and neither of us are kids! We never got to be kids, and we’ll never _get to_ be kids, because your _horrible_ family screwed up and you came along and made things so much worse!” 

Hurt flickers across Lloyd’s face, and his eyes look oddly shiny. Morro’s too far into his rant to care. 

“It’s typical,” Morro spits. “Absolutely perfect. This is all your fault, I mean it. Everything’s your fault, every _single_ stupid thing that’s gone wrong in my life, if it wasn’t for _you_ —”

Lloyd punches him square in the mouth.

It’s not even the hardest hit he’s ever received, but it’s hard enough to send him staggering back a couple steps. Morro reels, so flabbergasted that he’s unable to form words for a good half-minute. He blinks back tears of pain, staring at Lloyd in indignation. “You — you _hit_ me!”

“And I’m not sorry about it _at all!_ ” Lloyd yells, fists clenched tightly by his sides, as if gearing up for another hit. “You deserved it!”

He punctuates this by hurling the tire block at him. Morro dodges easily, his own anger flaring back to life. 

“You call that a hit?” he scoffs. “Pathetic. This is why you were so easy to possess, you know—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Lloyd cuts over him, kicking a rock at him this time. “FSM, what’s your _problem?_ I don’t even know why I try with you!”

“My problem?” Morro snaps, true and properly angry now. “My problem is that some pint-sized brat stole my whole life from me, and now he’s out here—” Morro grunts as he throws the tire jack at Lloyd. “Trying to pretend we’re _cousins!_ ”

“Oh, your _whole life_ ,” Lloyd echoes, derisively. “What is it about the green gi that makes you so _entitled?_ You’re like — you’re uglier than some stupid runner-up in a beauty pageant about it!”

Morro’s teeth clack together like a steel trap. “A _beauty pageant?!_ ”

“Yeah!” Lloyd shouts. “You’re like a screaming _toddler!_ Who runs onstage and attacks the winner because they didn’t get first place in a contest for a stupid _outfit!_ ”

“It’s not! Just! An o _utfit!_ ” Morro roars. 

“I know that!” Lloyd snaps. 

“Then why didn’t you _give it to me!_ ”

“Because you don’t deserve it! You’re a _jerk!_ ”

“You don’t even _want_ it!” Morro yells. “You get the green gi and you don’t even appreciate it! This is why we’ll never be cousins!”

“ _Good!_ I don’t want you as a cousin! I hate you!” Lloyd screeches, throwing the car manual at him. “I hate you, I hate you so much!”

“I hate you too!” Morro howls, throwing the tire wrench. It spirals wildly off-aim. “Gods, you’re the _worst_ —”

“Drop _dead_ , Morro!” Lloyd screams. 

“ _Make_ me!” Morro screams back. “Bet you don’t have it in you, you sniveling little—”

Lloyd, clearly determined to prove that he _does_ have it in him, neatly cuts Morro off by tackling him around the waist, sending them both flying over the edge of the hill and rolling wildly into the ravine. 

The screaming that follows is a lot less angry this time, and a lot more like the terrified screeching of two year-olds on a roller coaster. 

* * *

“D’you think...hospitals will take..the green gi as insurance?”

“S’worth...a try. Not sure, think…my head might’ve cracked.” 

“I think I heard my spine snap.”

“Pretty sure that was my knee detaching.”

Morro winces, closing his eyes briefly before opening them, staring up at the starry night sky. There’s a shifting noise near his head, before Lloyd curses, moaning in pain as it stops abruptly. 

As it turns out, the ravine went a bit deeper than either of them had been prepared for. The end result is Lloyd and Morro both sprawled at the bottom of the ravine, staring into the void of space as they rethink their particular life choices up to this point. There had been a brief moment where they both attempted to shove themselves back up to continue their fight, but that dream had rapidly died as they both collapsed back into the grass, groaning in pain. 

It did kill his temper rather effectively, Morro will admit. It’s difficult to keep screaming when your ribs feel like they’ve been used as a drum by a baseball bat. So they continue to lie there in silence, before Lloyd finally stirs. 

“So that, uh,” Lloyd finally breathes. “That was. A lot.”

Morro winces. “Yeah. That was — I haven’t yelled like that in a while.”

“Aw, man,” Lloyd laughs humorlessly, still staring at the sky. “I don’t think I’ve yelled like that since I was like, eight.”

The crickets around them buzz loudly as they lapse into silence. At least the sky’s stopped spinning, Morro thinks. 

“I think. Um. I think I probably crossed a line.”

Lloyd’s voice is so quiet, Morro almost misses it. He doesn’t miss the apologetic tone, though.

Morro’s lips press together as something in his chest twists that _better_ not be guilt. “I..might have, as well.”

Lloyd hums. “I probably shouldn’t have compared everything you went through to a toddler.”

“Well,” Morro pauses, thinking back on it. “I mean. That crack about the beauty pageant was kinda funny.” 

Lloyd gives a breathless little laugh. “Wanna know something awful?”

Morro cranes his head slightly. “Hm?”

“I actually stole that from Nya. And she was, uh, talking about Kai.”

Morro’s eyebrows shoot up. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did,” Lloyd giggles. “It was after the whole thing with Chen — you saw that, right, in my head?”

“Uh...kind of. Sorry?”

“Nah, I don’t care as much about that one. Anyways, he was a mopey mess after it. Nya was kind of bitter. I might have been…a little bit, too. In secret.”

Morro smirks despite himself. “The Green Ninja, secretly bitter.”

“I’ll never be as bitter as you,” Lloyd retorts.

Morro’s smirk fades. “That’s fair, I guess.” He looks back at the sky, scrubbing a hand across his eyes. “Sorry I brought up possessing you again,” he mutters. “That was…probably uncalled for.”

“Yeah,” Lloyd says. “Pretty uncool that you keep doing that.”

“Yeah, well.” Morro sighs. “I’m a work in progress. But still. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it, I think. Not the bringing up the possession part, but the work in progress part.”

“Oh.” Morro chews on the edge of his lip. “Then, uh, I’m also — I’m also sorry I said everything’s your fault.” He closes his eyes tightly. Curse it, the feeling twisting his chest up is most certainly guilt. “That was definitely uncalled for.”

“No,” Lloyd says, quietly. “That’s…that’s fair, too.”

Morro’s eyes blink open, and he cranes his head back to stare at him. “What? No, it’s not. Blame your grandfather, or your dad, or even Wu. Or that, um, giant snake thing, that kept popping up—”

“The Great Devourer?”

“Yeah, blame _that_.” Morro briefly squeezes his eyes shut again. Oh, this _hurts_ to say out loud. “You’re…you’re still a kid. You’ve _been_ a kid, even if life sucks enough to make it feel like you’re not. S’not fair to blame it all on you.”

Lloyd is silent for a moment, and Morro hopes he’s heard the apology in his words. That’s a new hope for _him_ to have, but it’s genuine. 

“Same goes for you, then.” Lloyd’s voice is still quiet, but it’s got that painful sincerity — the kind Morro’s heard before, but never directed at him. “I mean, possessing me wasn’t _good_ , but… everyone deserves a chance to make things right. You’re a kid, too.”

“Lloyd, you know I’m technically like, forty.”

“Yeah, in _ghost_ years. Being dead doesn’t count.”

“Like _you’d_ know.” Morro breaths a humorless laugh. “Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that I went after a kid for getting slapped with the green gi.”

Lloyd inhales sharply. “Could you maybe go at least five minutes without bringing that up? Just this once?”

Morro blinks at the sudden frustration in Lloyd’s voice. “W-what?”

The grass rustles as Lloyd shakes his head, but he blows his breath out, the anger seeping from him. “I just — I’m sick of it. I get that you hate me, but you could at least have the decency to hate me for _me_ ,” he says, wearily. “Hate me for like, my obnoxious habit of repeating stuff, or my annoying voice.”

Morro is quiet for a moment. “Your voice isn’t that bad anymore,” he admits.

Lloyd snorts. “You don’t have to lie.”

“No, I’m serious. It doesn’t do that squeaky-toy cracking thing anymore.”

“Well _that_ makes me feel so much better,” Lloyd huffs. 

“You’re welcome,” Morro grins. They lapse into silence again, and the grin slides slowly off of Morro’s face. Oh, curse everything, _why_ is his chest still twisting up in knots. 

He finally puffs out a weary breath of defeat. “And I don’t…entirely hate you.”

Lloyd is quiet, digesting that. “Huh. Really?”

“Yeah. Hate your stupid gi, though.”

“Oh, same. You have no idea.”

“Starting to get that, I think.”

“Heh. I guess I don’t…entirely hate you, either.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.”

“Disgusting.”

* * *

The tire is surprisingly easy to change, when they’re not trying to bite each other’s heads off. There’s no damage to the actual truck or trailer either, so they’re back on the road before daybreak. Lloyd fretfully checks on the shark a minimum of twenty times, but it’s fine as well, peacefully floating in its little tank. He lets Morro drive, in what may or may not be a peace offering, so Morro lets Lloyd choose the music, which is definitely a peace offering. It’s the only way he’d ever willingly listen to the amount of acoustic music Lloyd plays them. 

Well…that he’d _admit_ willingly listening to. 

They don’t talk much, but it’s a surprisingly comfortable silence, and by the time they pull up to Lloyd’s beach, half finished with the horrendously cheap coffee they snagged from the gas station, Morro doesn’t feel quite as annoyed with the world on the whole. 

In fact, he feels dangerously close to being at peace with it, which is obviously unacceptable, so he makes sure to stub his toe at least three times as they maneuver the now-awake and incredibly annoyed shark into the waves. 

“Hey, hey, c’mon buddy,” Lloyd soothes, waist-deep in the water as he coaxes the shark toward him. “It’s okay, we’re setting you free. Don’t eat us when there’s much more tasty seafood in the ocean.”

“Maybe Oni is a delicacy for sharks,” Morro suggests, his feet firmly planted on the shore. He’s been assisting with his wind, floating the shark down gently, and that’s already more than enough. “I bet seafood pales in comparison to demon flesh.”

“You’re disgusting,” Lloyd says, but his lips quirk up. “In that case, maybe I should just drop him on my dad.”

Morro snorts, watching as Lloyd finally gets the shark to deeper water, where it swishes its tail happily, clearly overjoyed to be free from its tiny tank. 

“There we go,” Lloyd smiles as it swims around him. “Much better, huh?”

Morro watches the shark swim a moment longer, wrinkling his nose as sand digs between his toes. He stifles a yawn, but the coastal winds are picking up around him, gently tugging through his hair and leaving him less tired as his element ghosts over his skin, as if whispering his name. 

He’s missed wind like this. The gentler kind. 

He finally turns his attention back to Lloyd, and his eyebrows furrow. 

“You know this is just one shark, right?”

“Mm-hm,” Lloyd hums happily, letting the shark nose against his hand.

“That doesn’t bode well for your shark tornado plan,” Morro reminds him. 

“Eh,” Lloyd shrugs. “I guess freeing a shark is as good as that. I can always get my dad back later.”

“You could dye your hair, that might do the trick.”

Lloyd gives a wry smile. “It wasn’t really about that, anyways,” he murmurs, so quietly Morro almost misses it. 

Morro doesn’t know if he wants to try and guess what that’s supposed to mean, so he averts his gaze instead, looking across the quiet, empty beach. It’s removed from the busier parts of the coast, almost abandoned. Certainly not the kind of place Morro would’ve seen Lloyd picking out for a weekend trip. 

“So why this beach, in particular?” he finally asks. “Seems pretty out of the way, just for this.”

Lloyd is quiet for a moment, his hands creating tiny eddies in the water around him. His face falls a fraction as he watches the shark swim off, deeper into the ocean, and he dips lower into the water. 

“I came here with my dad, once,” he says, quietly. “After he was… back to normal. Without the venom, and all.”

“Oh.” Morro blinks. There’s a lot of meaning behind those words. For some reason, he’s almost frightened to try and decipher it. 

Lloyd saves him from it, straightening up where he stands in the water. “So, are you gonna get in, or what?”

Morro blinks, then violently shakes his head. “No. Absolutely not. Water and I are not compatible. You know that.”

“You weren’t before,” Lloyd insists. “You are now.”

“What was that you were saying earlier?” Morro reminds him, snidely. “About _traumas_ , and stuff?”

Lloyd’s brow furrows, in what could almost be concern. “You don’t have to,” he says, slowly. “But this is a nice place to start.”

Morro stares at the sand before him, a mere three feet from where the waves stop washing up on shore. He makes a face. It’s not like he’s scared of water. He takes showers, and he’s not afraid to sprint out in the rain if he’s left a book or something outside. But those are just — water in small doses. _This_ sparkling blue hellhole of toxicity is different. It’s _saltwater_. Saltwater brings back…less than pleasant memories. 

Granted, this particular body of toxic seawater doesn’t seem to be quite as deadly at the moment. Lloyd’s skin hasn’t slid off his bones yet, and he’s floating up to his neck in the stuff. 

“I’ll pass,” Morro finally says, stiffly. “It’s, uh, a little too rough for me out there.”

Lloyd looks pointedly at where the gentle waves barely lap the shore. Morro grits his teeth. _Drat_. That makes it rather difficult not to admit that he does, probably, look like a coward. Lloyd tilts his head to the side, studying him with the eerie red eyes he gets sometimes. Morro doesn’t like the look that forms on his face. 

“Why,” he says, with a gleam in his eyes. “Are you scared?”

Even though Morro’s seen that coming a mile away, he still reddens. “No.”

Lloyd raises an eyebrow. “Kinda looks like you’re scared.”

“I am not.”

Lloyd squints at him. Then, without warning, he splashes the smallest bit of seawater up toward him. Morro jumps back, with what he’ll die before he admits is a high-pitched shriek, skittering away from the tiny droplets. 

Lloyd bursts into giggles, and Morro feels his cheeks blazing. “That was low, you little insect—”

“Chicken, chicken, Morro’s a chicken,” Lloyd taunts over him. 

“I’ll kill you,” Morro threatens.

“Oh yeah?” Lloyd flashes his teeth at him. “How’re you gonna do that when I’m in the water?”

Morro’s hands clench into fists as he seethes. “I am _not_ scared of the water.”

“Yes, you are.”

Morro takes a threatening step toward him, brandishing his fist. “I am not a _chicken!_ ”

“Yes you _a-are_ ,” Lloyd repeats gleefully. “Chicken, chicken—”

“Shut up—”

“Bawk, bawk—”

“I’ll break your _spine_ —”

“Not with your chicken arms you won’t—”

“ _Enough_ with the chicken!” Morro roars, shaking Lloyd by the collar of his soaking t-shirt. “I am not _scared!_ ”

Lloyd presses his lips together, barely holding back what’s either laughter or another one of those infuriating smiles. “Okay, geez. You proved me wrong.”

Morro blinks. Lloyd looks down, and Morro follows his gaze. He blinks again. 

He’s standing waist-deep in the saltwater with Lloyd, waves swirling gently around him. His flesh is not melting off. He is not dying an excruciating death. It doesn’t feel like corrosive acid. It feels like…regular water. Kind of cold, regular water, that smells a little like fish. 

Morro stares at the water, letting Lloyd’s shirt go as his arms hang limply by his sides. He didn’t even notice putting a _foot_ in. 

“Hey, look,” Lloyd says, brightly. “You’re not dead."

Morro should strangle him for this. Lloyd’s tricked him into the toxic death water by _annoying_ him, and Morro didn’t even notice. He should celebrate this new accomplishment by holding Lloyd’s head under the water until he drowns. 

Oddly enough, all he can find it in himself to do is stare at the water with the tiniest of smiles. “I’m not dead,” he echoes, quietly. 

Lloyd beams at him, and he doesn’t even want to strangle him for it. Morro stands waist-deep in the water, completely at ease, and feels something odd bubble up in his throat. It’s light and easy, like his chest is filling up with a balloon, and for a brief second, he meets Lloyd’s beaming smile with one of his own.

Naturally, that’s when the beach blows up. 

* * *

On second thought, the ocean can die. 

Morro immediately changes his mind about seawater as he’s knocked beneath a large wave, swallowing a mouthful of disgusting salt liquid. Panic twists around his heart as he flails briefly, before a hand locks firmly around his arm and _yanks_ , pulling him to the surface and dragging him forward.

“—can’t believe this, again?!” Lloyd’s yelling in his ear as Morro splutters out saltwater. “What is it _now_ , someone whose got aunt we got fired?”

“Don’t be ridiculousss, you know your own worth,” a hissing voice laughs across the water, and Morro struggles to find his footing as Lloyd drags them both onto the beach. “Imagine my delight when I realized the Green Ninja was lounging on the beach!”

Morro finally manages to push his sopping hair from his face, and he blinks saltwater from his eyes as his vision clears. Several paces down the sand from them stands a scarlet Hypnobrai, an admittedly intimidating weapon held in its scaly hands. 

“Oh, of course!” Lloyd spits. “ _Stupid_ green power, would it kill you to let me get _five minutes_ of—”

He cuts off in a yelp as the Serpentine fires at them again, dragging Morro to the sand with him as the grenade blast streaks over their heads, exploding somewhere further down the beach. 

“It’s okay,” Lloyd pants, as they scramble to their feet. “This is — it’s all good, it’s just one Serpentine. We can handle this, easy.”

Morro whips his head across the beach. “You do see the other four, right?”

“The other—” Lloyd swears. “How did they _all_ get grenade launchers?”

“ _That’s_ what you’re worried about right now?” Morro shouts, as they narrowly avoid another three blasts. The lead Hypnobrai cackles wildly at them, waving his weapon like a war flag. 

“How did you even find me?” Lloyd yells, as he and Morro sprint around the jetty for cover, stumbling over the protruding rocks. “This is the middle of nowhere!”

The Hypnobrai grins, sharp teeth flashing. “Oh, we wouldn’t have! But I recognized the name on the credit card used at the gas station. To be honest, I was actually expecting the earth ninja.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?!” Lloyd cries. “What kind of _karma_ —”

Morro grasps him firmly by the shoulders and yanks him down, just before another streaking blast of flame can take his head off. Morro cringes as the ensuing explosion rocks the ground beneath them, his ears ringing. 

Lloyd crouches lower beside him, muttering frantically. “I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry,” he’s saying in the vague direction of the sky. “I’ll never steal anyone’s credit card again, I promise, I’m sorry—”

“Are you — _apologizing_ to your grandfather right now?” Morro gapes at him. 

Lloyd throws his hands in the air. “This has gotta be someone's fau—alt, move!”

He yanks them to the side as another blast narrowly misses them, almost knocking them clear off their feet. Morro grits his teeth, frustration spiking.

“This would be a great time for a plan, oh ninja leader,” he snaps.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it,” Lloyd’s hands flash green. “Just follow my—” 

He gasps, his eyes going wide at something beyond Morro’s shoulder. Morro has a split second of confusion before Lloyd shoves him to the ground, bright green energy blazing to life in a makeshift shield—

Just in time for the next blast to hit him dead on, sending him flying back into the jetty. 

Lloyd gives a single, sharp cry before his head strikes the edge of a rock, abruptly going silent as he tumbles to the edge of the jetty, inches from being swept away by the water. He doesn’t move after that. 

Morro’s stomach bottoms out, his blood running cold as he’s hit with a sudden rush of terror so strong he almost loses his balance. 

Then the rage hits. 

Morro turns on the Hypnobrai who fired the blast, his eyes flaming. The snake swallows, suddenly looking pale as he clutches at his weapon.

“Um—”

Morro _roars_ , and the wind turns sharp and vicious, swirling around him in a vortex of fury. The Serpentine shriek in terror as they’re swept up in the gale, Morro’s wind howling as it tears the weapons from their hands. Morro barely hears them, his mind still stuck on the single scream before Lloyd had fallen silent. Anger blazes hot in his chest, and the wind grows bitterly cold, flinging water from the ocean higher and higher. Saltwater splashes against his cheeks, but Morro hardly feels it. He lets the water power his wind instead, sweeping into a furious storm.

He could easily kill them right now — happily, even. But Morro’s been an entire mess of conflicting emotions this weekend, and he’s got more pressing things to worry about, so he sends their weapons flying far out into the ocean instead. He narrows his eyes on them in fury, before hissing out, “Get. _Lost_.”

They don’t need any help fleeing after that, but Morro still launches them a good thirty feet away. For good measure. 

He lets the wind die bit by bit, water splashing back into the ocean. Morro suddenly becomes aware of how his hands are trembling, shaking in the aftermath of adrenaline. There’s a moment of crushing silence in the absence of his howling wind, and his stomach drops. 

He whips around, his eyes searching the empty beach desperately. He wasn’t — he hadn’t been thinking of Lloyd when he’d kicked the storm up, but what if—

“Lloyd,” Morro rasps, his throat closing over in fear. “Lloyd, where are you, please—”

“M’here.”

Lloyd stumbles from behind the jetty, coughing up a mouthful of saltwater as he sways dizzily, rubbing his head. “Ow, ow, ow. I’m gonna feel that for—”

Lloyd cuts off in a yelp as Morro grabs him forcefully, pulling him in and wrapping his arms around him. Lloyd goes painfully rigid, his breathing uneven for a beat before he gingerly reaches back, awkwardly patting Morro’s shoulder with his one free hand. 

“Uh, M-Morro?”

He clutches him tighter. “Shut up.”

“Mo’o, yer crush’n me.”

“Shut _up_. You’re terrible. You’re horrible. I get why Kai’s so grumpy all the time. How does Kai not have grey hair. How.”

Lloyd makes a muffled sound of indignation as Morro refuses to let go. He probably looks ridiculous, but he can’t find it in himself to care. A host of realizations are hitting him at once, and it’s making him slightly nauseous. 

For a second, Lloyd had been quiet. He’d been still and unmoving, and he could’ve been _dead_. Which would have been bad, apparently, for Morro, because Lloyd can’t die. Because if Lloyd dies, then Morro won’t have a pint-sized blond cousin to yell all the angsty stuff out with, and if Lloyd dies then who’s gonna drag him out of his self-induced isolating depression and make him try gross food and break the law and actually interact in the world? Morro can’t lose that. Lloyd’s the only person who’s genuinely made _Morro_ feel like a person, he can’t go die before Morro makes at least _some_ attempt to apologize for being horrible in general to him. 

It clicks, finally, like getting hit in the face with the blunt end of a shovel. Morro is, without a doubt, terrified of the idea of losing Lloyd. Oh _no_. Oh, this is awful. Because if Morro’s scared of losing Lloyd, that must mean—

“Aw, you _do_ care,” Lloyd croaks, his voice watery.

Morro, soaking wet and holding the one person he’s wanted to see dead most like an over-sized teddy bear in need of love, wants to die.

* * *

“You tricked me.”

“Huh?”

Morro shakes his head, pulling the edge of his blanket up around his shoulders, shifting on the uncomfortable sidewalk that lines the parking lot. They’re both bundled up in emergency blankets they swiped from the truck, shivering in their wet clothes even as the sun climbs higher in the sky above them. 

“You tricked me,” Morro repeats. “You tricked me into tolerating you long enough that I somehow got duped into liking you as a person. You irritated your way into my life.”

Lloyd breathes a laugh, before wincing and pressing his hand to his forehead again. “You should talk to Kai, I did the same thing to him.” 

“You dragged him on a road trip from hell, too?” Morro wonders if he’s been too hard on Kai.

“Not exactly,” Lloyd says. “I did get him stuck in a volcano though.”

“Typical,” Morro mutters. “I don’t even have trouble believing that. You’re a menace."

“Aw, c’mon,” Lloyd grins. “Didn’t I hear you saying that you _liked_ me as person?”

Morro bristles. “No,” he says, firmly. “That’s your concussion talking.”

Lloyd rolls his eyes. “I don’t have concuss— _ow_ , Morro, stop!”

“Huh. Your head isn’t gushing blood, so that’s good,” Morro remarks, pulling his hand away from the back of Lloyd’s head. “That’s still gonna be a bump, though.”

“My hair hides it though, right?” Lloyd’s expression is slightly panicked. “You can’t see it, right?”

“The bump? No.” Morro gestures to Lloyd’s face. “The black eye? Yes.”

“Oh, no.” Lloyd buries his face in his hands. “That’s it, then. I’m toast.”

“Oh, _you’re_ toast,” Morro scoffs. “Kai’s gonna wring my neck.”

Lloyd lifts his face from his hands, shaking his head. “No. I’ll tell him you saved me. That’ll buy you points.”

“Kai’s gonna love that,” Morro snorts. 

“Yeah, well.” Lloyd sighs, pulling his blanket around his shoulders. “What’cha gonna do.”

Morro scoffs, pulling his own blanket tighter over his shoulders. The ocean breezes are still a bit chilly with their damp clothes, but the wind is as peaceful as it was earlier, lulling them both into a sleepy kind of haziness. Morro feels disgustingly at peace with the world again, soaking wet and sitting on a sidewalk in the middle of a half-destroyed beach with Lloyd, but he can’t muster up the energy to make himself feel otherwise. Being at peace for five minutes won’t hurt, he reasons. 

“By the way, remind me to check the truck before we return it,” Lloyd suddenly says, yawning. “I think I left Kai’s apology present in there.”

Morro frowns. “His what now?”

“Apology present,” Lloyd sighs, scrubbing at his eye. “For putting him through hell.”

“ _Him?_ ” Morro gapes at Lloyd. “What about me? Where’s _my_ apology gift for getting dragged through hell?”

“Your apology gift is me not hating your guts,” Lloyd huffs, pulling his blanket fully over his hair, like an incredibly ugly veil. “And like, forgiveness and stuff.”

Morro opens his mouth, then abruptly snaps it shut as Lloyd’s words register. He stares at him, feeling a bit dizzy all of the sudden. 

“You — what — forgive—?”

“You heard me,” Lloyd yawns again. He perks up, blinking. “Oh, hey, speak of the devil. There they are.”

Morro just catches the familiar hum of _Bounty’s_ engine before the anchor crashes into the parking lot before them, splintering long cracks in the concrete. Lloyd and Morro stare up at the figures on the deck. Morro swallows.

“You’ve, uh, you’ve written up your will, right?” Lloyd gulps. 

Morro shakes his head, wordlessly.

Lloyd gives a nervous laugh. “Okay, good. I haven’t either.” He watches in trepidation as a red figure begins sliding down the anchor chain toward them. “Maybe should’ve done that sooner,” he whispers to himself.

* * *

Kai doesn’t murder them, but it’s a near thing. In the end, Nya comes nearer to committing homicide, followed closely by Cole. 

“Why mine?” he wails, shaking Lloyd by the edges of his blanket the minute Kai hauls them both onto the _Bounty_. “Why couldn’t you have snatched Jay’s credit card? He’d at least _deserve_ it!”

“I’m sorry,” Lloyd wails back. “I learned my lesson, I promise, I’ll never do it again—”

“For crying out loud,” Nya mutters, watching them both before turning narrowed eyes on Morro. “Well, I was going to murder you, but somehow Lloyd’s still alive.”

Morro’s too tired to even fight back. “He’s like a barnacle,” he says, hazily. “Like — like those parasite things. You let them get to close and you’re stuck for life, those things, you know?”

Nya presses her lips together tightly, but her eyes sparkle in amusement. 

“He got you too, huh?” Jay remarks, studying one of the grenade launchers he fished out of the water. “Join the club. Ooh, nice, this has got some _real_ firepower…”

Morro buries his face in his hands. “Just put me out of my misery.”

“Happily,” Kai snaps, his eyes slightly manic from what’s either sleep deprivation or extreme stress. Zane catches him gently, tugging him away from Morro. 

“Welcome to the team, I suppose,” Zane tells him, with an easy smile.

Morro groans. He wants to—

Well. He doesn’t exactly want to die. It’s close, but he doesn’t. Not really. 

It’s an odd feeling, whatever leaves him off-kilter as he steps below the deck with Lloyd. Maybe that’s just his own sleep deprivation, but still. He snags Lloyd by the elbow before he disappears into his room, and Lloyd pauses, staring curiously at him. 

“What you said,” Morro begins, hesitantly. “In the parking lot, about— forgi—that thing.”

Lloyd’s eyes dart to the floor, but he sets his jaw. “That thing. I, uh, yeah. No take backs, right?”

Morro blinks wildly, his tired brain barely able to digest that. “You know you could’ve gotten rid of me out there,” he tries, desperately reaching for sense. “You missed your chance.”

Lloyd meets his eyes again, shaking his head. “Oh, Morro,” he sighs. “Don’t you know the best way to defeat your enemy is to make them your friend?”

Morro stares at him. Lloyd gives him a sharp-teethed grin. “Besides,” he continues. “What’s the point in holding a grudge, when getting you to care about me is much better revenge?”

Morro stiffens. “I don’t care about you,” he protests. 

“Nuh-uh, too late now,” Lloyd’s grin widens. “Before you know it, you’ll be calling me cousin. Eating dinner with us. Calling Kai _buddy_.”

“I would never,” Morro hisses.

Lloyd’s grin is positively sinister. “Oh, you will,” he says. “Because you _care_ now.”

Morro is horrified, truly horrified, to find that saying _no_ to Lloyd’s claim would be a lie. “You’re a monster,” he whispers.

Lloyd smiles brightly. “I’ll see you in practice tomorrow!” he calls cheerfully, before slamming the door in his face. 

Morro stares after him blankly, the ugly Oceanworld blanket still hanging limply from his shoulders. 

“I hate him,” he finally tells the door, wearily.

Oh, curse everything. Morro can’t even convince himself the _door_ believes him. 


End file.
